I’ve lost control.

I See Dead People Carrying Five-Letter Words

Crazy. Words. Every. Where.

Words have been my passion since I was a little girl carrying around my Golden Books.

I used to be the driver of those words, in charge of what I read and wrote. Whatever tumbled out of my mouth was derived from my mind. I owned those words and could do with them what I pleased.

But that is no longer the case. Now I have lost complete control of that most precious commodity.

The culprit being WORDLE.

Since I started playing, five-letter words come at me from all angles, at all times. With no regard for my sanity.

While I’m grocery shopping, going up and down the aisles they pop into my head. Bread. Pasta. Water. Melon.

I find myself searching for items not on my grocery list.

Pepper. No, no can do. I stop short in the aisle with the pepper in my hand. I can’t buy peppers. That six-letter item will take up too much space. I toss the pepper back. Grapes? No. Grape. I pluck one. Chomp. Hurry. Apple. Just one. Cream. Juice. Into the cart. Stand. Smile. Money. Paper.

I need to get out of this space.

I make it to my car. Fresh skies.

I think I’m okay and then the five-letter little monsters rush at me while I’m driving. They hang in the air above the street. Light. Green. Speed. Drive. Radio.

They run along the yellow highway lines. Music. Blues. Dance. Focus.

While cooking dinner. Onion. Stove. Steak. Spoon. Knife. Grind. Stare. Grill. Burps.

But the darkness of night is the worst time. I stare at the ceiling fan, whirring above my head, cutting the air, bouncing words around like a beach ball. Sleep. Avoid. Horny. Movie. Prime. Snores. Ghost. Awake.

I breathe in slowly, bat away the words with exhales, and eventually drift off into that twilight space.

And then….

Voices of friends long gone, creep into my temporal lobe, that place where memories are stored.

My father grins at me from his workshop, shaping five-letter words with his jigsaw: Daddy. Mommy. Pools. Sweat. Knees. Float.

My husband’s best friend is silk-screening five-letter words onto a canvas. Camel. Smoke. Music. Chord. Loves.

My brother-in-law is reading a blueprint of five-letter words. Quads. Money. House. Bench. Golfs. Lakes.

My best friend passes by in a cloud of five-letter words: Laugh. Smile. Drugs. Youth. Happy. Peace.

Yes! Give me peace.

I toss and turn. The sky lightens. Eventually, the sweet spot in the bed finds me. But not for long.

Six in the morning! My eyes pop open. I reach for my phone. Time to play Wordle.

I stare at the empty squares.

My mind is BLANK.

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